She stared at him.
She wanted a good, long look at the centaur.
She wanted the memory.
The raspberry color of his muscly arms and stoic face. The white beard that sprung down to his waist. The puff of black that sprouted from his head, barely grazing his long, slender horns that were in the shape of a lyre. His black chest turned grey at the legs, leaving a contrasting white to his hooves and tail. The most memorable thing on his face was a silver ring piercing his flat nose, sitting below his white brows and yellow pupils.
“Why are you so insistent for a chat?” she asked this centaur.
“When I first took over, several ponies disliked the idea of me holding all the magic. I wore them down with kindness and now they’re great friends. Not all of them, mind you, but I try with those I believe I can sway, which includes you. Call it insistence, but I find it works quite well to treaty those who would see my ultimate destruction.”
“Like me?” she snarled angrily. “I know it was you who drained the Elements of Harmony. You went to Canterlot not to stop the changeling invasion but to steal Celestia and Luna’s magic!”
The centaur lowered his arms, the basket and tray of coffee tucked neatly at his sides. “Congratulations, now you know as much as the princesses. But you’d be wrong—I didn’t go to steal their magic. That had been my plan until I found the Elements of Harmony. Draining them changed me, made my anger explode. I thrashed and raged until all my anger had been expelled out. I told Celestia all this long after I parleyed with her and her sister.” He stepped forward. “Coffee’s getting cold. Are we going to stand out here all day?”
“Hold on,” Sunset shouted. “What do you mean you told them after you negotiated? You mean they didn’t know about the Elements of Harmony beforehand? Why didn’t they try to find them first to defeat you?”
“Why would they want to attack their new friend, someone who had just saved them?”
“You’re not their friend!” Sunset stomped a foreleg. “You’re not anyone’s friend!”
“Just like you,” retorted the centaur.
The door to the Golden Oak Library swung inward, the black stallion at the frame. “What’s with all this shouting? Sunset, you’re still here?” His grey eyes twisted. “Oh. Lord Tirek.”
Tirek tilted his nose up at the stallion. “Sombra,” he replied tonelessly. He then looked back at Sunset. “I see you already have company.” He stepped closer to the unicorn and handed her the tray of two coffees, placing the basket on the ground beside her. “I’ll be on my way then. The baked goods are from Pinkie. Welcome to Ponyville.”
As the centaur trotted away, Sunset stood dumbfounded by the exchange of information. “What just happened?” she asked the air.
“I see he’s trying to do the same thing he does to everypony who doesn’t like him.” Sombra walked out and took the basket of baked goods in his mouth. Dragging it inside, Sunset followed. “He did the same thing to me, though it didn’t work,” the stallion mentioned after placing the basket on the kitchen table. The smell of coffee began to encapsulate the library. “Some ponies just can’t get over the loss of their magic. Others have trouble being friends with the one who took it from them. I’m the latter.”
“I guess we’re both in that boat,” Sunset replied, putting the coffees beside the basket. The cups were ceramic, a lid on both. She took one of the lids off and steam began to emanate from the liquid. “He didn’t seem to care when he drained my magic. Why the sudden change?”
“He doesn’t like to look at the pony right after he steals magic their magic. He says they have a look to their eyes that he doesn’t like.”
She felt a sudden twinge of anger spurn through her. It always goes back to the look, doesn’t it? “I’m surprised you two aren’t friends. He’s technically a reformed villain like you.”
“So are you, Sunset, yet you didn’t seem to enjoy the conversation you were having,” Sombra replied. “I’m not friends with many ponies. Tirek, Celestia, Luna, they don’t see me in a good light. Cadance and Shining Armor are the closest things I have to friends. They often invite me along to Canterlot, yet I refuse, mostly out of embarrassment.”
“Well, I’m your friend, Sombra. It’s hard to be, but I am.”
That surprised Sombra. “It’s hard to be my friend?”
“Sorry. I know that sounds like an insult but it’s not. I went through an entire world where fighting you was my goal. I didn’t stop to think about who or what I hurt until I saw the changelings, and even then I didn’t care about what happened to Queen Chrysalis. Yet, here you are, reformed and well. Had I tried… had I done everything I could, maybe I could have reformed you. I was so selfish. I was only focused on getting home. Seeing you now, seeing how you turned out, seeing how kind and helpful you’ve been to me, it makes me so mad! I failed. I failed three worlds. And in this one, it seems everything is fine. Even if it’s not my world, it’s just as peaceful. Maybe more peaceful than my world. I can’t fix this world, making me a failure again.”
“So that’s the burden that’s been weighing you down.” Sombra wrapped a foreleg around her shoulders. “I see now why you’d think that—but in your world, I’m not reformed, right? Tirek’s not either?”
“Well, no.”
“Every world is different, Sunset. You can’t help that. It’s not your job to fix every discrepancy.”
Sunset shook her head. “In the first world, I visited the Tree of Harmony. It asked me to help time. The only way I know how to do that is to take down the villains that claim it as their world. Even as I left the last world, it must have sensed things were not completely on track. It took a second for the portal to open. How else could you explain what happened back there? That’s the only reasoning I can think of.”
Sombra stood silent for a moment. He often took a while to think before speaking. “I’d hate to break it to you, Sunset, but this burden, this weight, it’s crushing you. You’re not looking at other avenues, other ways of seeing things. This mission you’re on to help your princess friend, maybe that’s really your end goal. Helping time may not just mean helping each world but time’s overall flow—just like how your princess friend is fighting in the past, you should be fighting in the present.”
“But I wouldn’t even know where to begin!” she yelled.
“But you do!” Sombra argued. “You’ve found the spell that broke time, now all you have to do is figure out how to get it working for your own purposes. You’ve done half the work.”
Reaching down, Sunset clamped a hoof around her foreleg, heatedly feeling the spot where her watch had been. “Half the work won’t get me home. Half the work doesn’t help Twilight. Not to mention I’d still need my magic to cast the spell if I ever do figure out how to alter it. Everything I’ve heard paints Tirek in a bad light when it comes to most useful magical castings, and it’s not like I want his help,” she said, her shoulders tensing at the thought of the centaur.
“Well, I think that’s the next step for you,” Sombra replied. “If you don’t want his help, you’re going to have to ask Tirek for your magic back.”
She jerked her head back. “You think he’d just give it to me?”
“Probably not but it wouldn’t hurt to try. While you’re doing that, I’m going to help you. I said I would, after all. I’m going to find you another avenue for that spell.” Sombra winked. “We’re friends, after all.”
“Sombra…” Sunset stared at him for a moment before attacking him with a hug. “Thank you so much.”
The stallion’s face went red, to which he quickly hid. “You’d better go catch Tirek before he gets too far.”
“Right.” She let go and rushed to the door. “I’ll be back later!” she yelled, once again stepping out to greet the day. The sun was just enough in the air for the morning ponies to come clambering out of their homes. She inhaled through her nose, exhaling through her mouth. She wasn’t sure Sombra could actually solve her spell problem, but she wasn’t sure of much anymore. There was only one thing she knew for certain, she hated Tirek. “Come on Sunset,” she psyched herself up, placing one hoof forward, then the other. “Let’s go find that thief.”
She wouldn't forgive the centaur for breaking her watch. She wouldn’t deny a chance to remove his power. But in the end, there was a bigger threat than Tirek. Starlight Glimmer. The name boiled her insides. For a while, she wandered in the direction Tirek trotted off in. She soaked in the quaint, rustic features of the town, which had apparently never changed. The town was unaffected by the wrench in time, it was as close to her Equestria’s Ponyville as it could be, though she had no way of gauging the truth of it. It seemed identical to the others she’d seen. Getting a good memory for the town, her eyes ran over a home in which she recognized. A place to hide from a patrolling changeling.
Her hooves brought her to the center, the town hall looking over all the other buildings like a celebrity being surrounded by paparazzi. Ponies who passed by greeted her, welcomed her, and went on their way. Though she felt alien in this world, no one recognized it. Pegasi who would have once taken to the air now walked past her like an earth pony or unicorn. She felt sorry for them. The only time I’ve flown I didn’t get to enjoy it, it must be nice. Each and every pony she passed was grey of eyes. Mare, stallion, filly, colt. It didn’t seem to matter who she looked at or what age they were, their eyes were as grey as her future.
The further she walked the more her anger returned, and the more she grinded her teeth. Seeing the unnecessary added work brought on by the lack of magic made her remember the world beyond the mirror. Automobiles, phones, computers. She wondered if the smart ponies of this world would put their minds into creating such inventions. If I’m stuck here, maybe I’ll be that pony, she whimsically thought before the anger clouded her mind. Not if. I am stuck here. I am. Sombra’s smart but I can’t put all my eggs into his basket.
After much searching, she found the centaur down at the newly created river, a hammer in one hand with boards over his other shoulder. Several ponies were with him, helping him steady the planks that were being added to the growing dock. As she came closer, staring at the expanse of the dawdling waters, she noticed her reflection. The grey eyes of every other pony were the same on her, regardless of where she came from.
“Sunset!” the centaur called out after having noticed the unicorn, breaking her concentration on the water. His meaty hand waved with a hammer closed in his palm.
She came closer, confident in every step she took, and marveled the work that had only just begun a couple days prior. “It seems you’re making yourself useful, more so than I would have believed,” she mocked.
“Idle hands are the magic’s advocate,” he replied with a goofy grin. “Speaking of which, care to give us a hand? It’s tiresome work but it really clears the mind.” He took a moment to breathe in. When he exhaled, his face expressed pure bliss, though that only made Sunset more annoyed.
“Actually, I’d like to talk.”
“Talk and work at the same time then.” He shrugged before handing her a hammer, to which she took in her mouth.
She stared, glaring at him with the tool being salivated upon all the while. Eventually, she spat it onto the planks. “I’d help if I had my magic,” she replied.
“Right,” he said, expressionless. He motioned to the other three ponies who took the hint, deciding to take their break right at that moment. When the workers vamoosed, Tirek went back to hammering into the boards. “What is it you wanted to talk about?” he asked.
“My magic,” she replied.
“Oh goodie. A short conversation then,” he dryly said.
“I’m not from this world. I’m trying to get back to my own. If you give me my magic, I’ll leave. If somepony wants to leave Equestria, you give them back their magic, right?”
When he finished with the nail he was working on, he lifted his gaze to Sunset. “That’s right. I escort them to the border, give them their magic, and watch as they walk into the great unknown. Sometimes they walk in the direction of my homeland, sometimes they walk south into what I hear is a dangerous territory. How is it you expect me to walk you to your world?”
“There’s a table—a map—that I use as a portal. It’s a one-way ticket to the next world.”
“And you want your magic to cast a spell on the table, opening this portal for you to move on?”
“There’s a spell that I’m hoping to reverse, to alter, that will help my friend Twilight Sparkle. She’s the one in the past dealing with someone corrupting time. Sombra is trying to alter the spell so that it can be used to send me to the past, or at least move me on. I believe the only way to help her is to break the curse on the table. Doing that will leave me stuck here, but after it’s finished I’ll be returning to the world beyond the mirror.”
Tirek’s white brows creased together as he listened. “Do you know how insane you sound right now?” he asked when she finished.
“I’ve been through three worlds now and everywhere I go the ponies give me strange looks. Trust me, I know.”
“For starters,” Tirek said, standing up from the dock’s floorboards. “I’m unsure what this mirror world is, so if I can’t walk you to it then you may not have your magic back. And secondly—I’m fairly good with magic. Point me to this map and I’ll figure out what exactly it’s enchanted with and fix it.”
“It’s not magic in the usual sense. It’s like the Crystal Heart.”
Tirek brushed his long fingers through his beard. “I see. So you know of my ineptitude when it comes to certain magical devices. Then if this map is untouchable to me, why should I give you magic to deal with it? How can I be sure that this isn’t some sort of trick? Perhaps instead of fixing your problem, you open another portal bringing in more dangerous magical creatures. You don’t seem the lying type, but a healthy amount of skepticism and paranoia has kept Equestria safe.”
“If I just wanted my magic back to defeat you, I’d do it myself. I wouldn’t bring in something more just for that,” she argued, her anger rising in her voice.
“Are you the type to want to stay and fight, even if someone else is telling you to run?” he asked, chuckling to himself. “Regardless, you speaking of other times and alternate worlds does not interest me. I’m sure the other universes would despise this one, claim it as cowardly; claim the princesses as cowardly. Yet I’ve never seen a society more peaceful. My homeland was in shambles when I left, and Equestria was constantly under attack from my understanding. Yet with me at the helm, I have shaped Equestria to be free, productive, and peaceful. If I were to go and waste my time on trying to fix other worlds, I’d have none for the ponies I have nurtured and become friends with.
“You say you are here by mistake—someone corrupting time. Yet is that not what I am preventing? Could someone bend time in the Equestria I have created? No. You have visited other worlds, you have witnessed what happens when magic gets involved. Can you not see that, without magic, this world is a better place? Without wasting time on magic, ponies who once worked tirelessly on spells now put their efforts into bettering the health of all. The sick, the tired, they’re being cared for far more than they had been. It’s all thanks to a world barren of magic.”
His rousing speech made Sunset angry, it made Sunset feel pity for the world, but worst of all, it made her feel inspired. The way he spoke, the way he seemed so sure of himself, it reminded her of Celestia’s speeches as a filly.
Another memory, she recollected, picturing the tall, white alicorn looming above with a smile on her face.
“Magic has done a lot of good too,” Sunset countered. “The Elements of Harmony helped reform Princess Luna.”
“Only after banishing her for a thousand years because her unbridled magic erupted from a sense of jealousy, turning her into a magical monster.” Tirek shook his head. “The changelings were an entire race of creatures desiring love to turn into magic. Sombra cursed the Crystal Empire for a thousand years with magic. Many problems stem from magic. Are you so blinded by anger to not see the cost?”
“If you believe magic is so problematic, why do you allow ponies to keep their magic when they leave Equestria!?” she furiously spat.
“Equestria is a safe haven where all creatures can come and be accepted. Outside of Equestria is a different story, to the south especially. They’d need their magic to survive out there, I would not deny them that. It is just my hope that they realize the dangers and return, relinquishing their magic and coming in from the cold.”
Sunset could feel it. This is just like with Nightmare Moon. She too was kind, reasonable. It was only her sister whom she had trouble with. I solved that, mostly. Hopefully. Her eyes fell to the wooden ground. “Magic has solved all my problems. The first two worlds, the Elements of Harmony brought the evil terrors down from their thrones. The third—without our magic we wouldn’t have gotten the flyers, we wouldn’t have been able to bring Celestia from the moon.”
“Did you really need to solve any of those things?” Tirek asked.
The sun had risen to the middle of the sky, turning the water into a blinding, glistening, reflective pool. It blinded Sunset as she stared down, forcing her eyes to look up at the centaur in front of her. “I-I,” she hesitated, feeling the anger build in her throat, reaching its climax. “The truth is, I didn’t solve anything. King Sombra was the villain of the first world—yet in your world you redeemed him. I failed, even with magic. But the Tree of Harmony told me to help time! How am I supposed to do that other than fix the inconsistencies between my world and the one I’m in!?”
“From what I’ve heard, the Tree of Harmony is a strange one. I often wonder if I should not give some magic back to it, but I have not found a good enough consequence to my action of stealing its power.” He sighed and shook his head, clearly upset at his own actions. “Perhaps it was not the Tree of Harmony that brought you here. Maybe the Tree of Harmony has nothing to do with your journey. It could be that your whole goal was only in your head.”
“What are you saying? That I’m just seeing what I want to see?”
“Maybe. Maybe you’re here because you want to be something that you’re not.”
“And what’s that?” Sunset retorted.
“A hero.”
Sunset’s teeth clenched hard, a sudden sweat came over her tense body. “What’d you say!?” she yelled in a growling, raging voice.
“It’s hard to hear, isn’t it? I see a lot of myself in you. The hatred, the temper. You’ve always wanted to be something you’re not, right? Maybe it’s powerful. Maybe it’s popular. Maybe both. I came with my brother full of confidence… full of pride. Yet the ponies feared me—which motivated me to give them something to really fear. When I escaped, I got a taste of heroism. I saved an entire city and the ponies loved me for it. Yet you said you failed these other worlds. You, who was once a villain, failed to be the hero. The more you realized your failure, the more you wanted a win, the more your anger swept through. You’re not angry with me, you’re angry with yourself.” He placed a hand out. “So much anger is not healthy. Let me help you control it. I might be the only person who truly understands what you’re going through.”
She hated Tirek. She hated him for breaking her watch. She hated him for the look Celestia gave her. But, were those good reasons to hate? Had it been Pinkie or Rarity that broke her watch, would she hate them? Would she hate Celestia, again?
It wasn’t Tirek that she hated.
“A strong mare who denies what’s in front of her isn’t a strong mare at all,” Celestia said, long ago, in another life, in another time, for the apprentice named Sunset Shimmer.
Water stains were hitting the dry planks beneath her hooves. Her hoof hesitated, shaking in the air in front of her, inches from Tirek’s red palm. “I’m trying to get home… C-can you help me, Tirek?” Her voice wobbled, far more than it ever had. He nodded, a genuine smile on his face. “Everything, it all matters. I’ve tried to stick to that. To see everything for what it is. The more I do, the harder I am on myself. We matter! After all I’ve done… I just want to go home.” She knew it sounded like blathering, but she was so tired. Tired of the hate, of the anger. Of these awful worlds.
Thrusting her hoof forward, Sunset fell into Tirek. She felt the warm embrace of the centaur, his hand gently caressing her back and neck. The same centaur who she had just felt such hate for was holding her against him as she bawled her eyes out.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop all this from happening,” Sunset remembered telling Principal Celestia.
“It’s not your fault, Sunset,” the principal had replied.
“Isn’t it?”
“It’s not your fault, Sunset,” the centaur said.
“Isn’t it?”
Her chin fell in between his thumb and index finger, the centaur raised her head to stare at each other. “Clearing your mind of anger, of hate, and pain will allow you to find your own way home. From there, the way will be clear no matter what it is.”
She sniffled, her cheeks soaked with salt. Pushing away from the centaur, she quickly wiped the remaining tears from the edges of her lids. “I-I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”
Tirek picked up the hammer Sunset dropped, holding it by the metal head. He lifted it to Sunset, and said, “Take out your aggression. Sometimes releasing the anger you’ve held through violence is the only way to let it go. Better to do it on a nail than a person, after all.”
Biting down on the wooden handle, Sunset took the hammer. She stared up at the centaur and gave a short nod, her cheeks still wet with tears. Tirek reached down and wiped the wet away with his thumb. He then turned and pulled the unused planks from behind him, placing them down in the areas where they were needed. Sunset attempted to hold steady a nail with her hoof while hammering down with her mouth. She almost wanted to sit down and cry again after missing on the third attempt. Eventually, through determination, she got the first hit. A few more hard whacks and she got it in.
She felt happy. Satisfied that she got it, then she looked at Tirek.
She felt angry. Begrudging the centaur that had stolen her magic which made tasks easier.
She felt guilty. This was a task that earth ponies and pegasus often did without magic, regardless.
The mix of emotion must have shown on her face. The centaur asked, “What’s wrong?”
Sunset spat out the hammer. “I miss my hands,” she said to him.
“Your hands?” he questioned, perplexed by the idea.
“In the world beyond the mirror, I’m transformed into a biped—kind of like you except with only one pair of legs. Their hands, like yours, allow them to grip things much in the same way my magic would do. I never realized how easier things were for me, going from unicorn to that thing.”
“You have definitely lived a strange life, Sunset. You are certainly the most unusual pony I have ever met, and I’ve met a lot of ponies. Here, let me help you.” The centaur placed a nail on a loose board, holding the sides as Sunset bent down and smacked the flat end.
Though it wasn’t any faster than if he’d done it alone, Sunset felt that her help had been useful. When they finished one board they moved on to the next until an entire pier was completed. There was much more to the dock than just one pier, and several others were lined up to be much larger than theirs, but completing just one piece helped Sunset think. The slamming of metal on metal rang her teeth, forcing her to clench down harder. But the more she hammered, the more she got used to it.
At first, she didn’t think about anything other than clearing her mind. A clear mind. To avoid being angry, I must be clear. But why can’t I be angry? I should be able to have any emotion I want! But I can’t just let them run rampant. It’d be like uncontrolled magic. A few taps of the hammer and another nail was in. The magic of friendship. That’s not something that Tirek can take away. Every day I try to hold myself to the standards of the Elements of Harmony, through friendship. If I let every emotion get to me, I wouldn’t have any friends. Even Pinkie Pie, who shows her happy side most times, knows when to simmer down. Not everything can be happy all the time. I can’t always remain angry.
When they began to move to a different section, Tirek carrying the planks and nails, Sunset took a moment to speak without the hammer in her mouth. “Are you never angry, Tirek?” she asked him.
“No, I still get angry, sometimes. When I reminisce. When I mess up. The dragons are making me upset at the moment. It happens. The most important thing is to not let it get to the extreme. The same goes for most emotions. Being too sad can lead to…” He brushed his beard. “Er, well. Being too happy all the time, you sometimes invite bad things. You allow people to get away with things because you’re happy, you don’t want to lose that happiness, which just ends with you unhappy anyway. Emotions are like memories. It’s good to have them. The good. The bad. The worse. But if you let them control you, then you lose control of yourself.”
“What makes you happy?”
Tirek let out a gruff, jolly laugh. “The same thing that used to make me angry. Ponies. And painting—though I’m not very good.”
“You paint!?”
“Of course. What? Do I not look like a painter?” He flexed his arms, grinning merrily. “I know what you’re thinking, he’d snap a paintbrush in two before figuring out how to use one. You’d be right too. Took me a long while before I figured out how to be gentle with the brush.”
“You may think I’m unusual, but everything you’ve said or done is blowing my expectations out of the water!” she replied.
Tirek went on two knees, cupping his hands together in front of himself. “Basing everything on what you see blinds you to new possibilities.”
“I see.”
“Do you?” He smiled, and then rose. “I believe that is enough for today. Thank you for the help, Sunset. Tomorrow, I’d like for you to come with me to Canterlot,” he said as he wiped his brow with the back of his hand.
“Canterlot? What for!?” she asked with an angered fervor in her voice that she hadn’t meant.
“There’s a pony I’d like you to speak with who I believe will help in easing your anger. There are many people like you and me who hold rage in our hearts. Speaking to me is a good start, speaking to others is even better. What do you say?”
“Could I… invite a friend along?”
Tirek pulsed at the question. His expression read: “What friend could she possibly have made?” Then the sudden realization hit, his expression hardening. “Yes, you may, if you feel it’s necessary or comforting.” The centaur pushed forward toward Sunset and placed a hand on the unicorn’s head, rustling her mane with his fingers. “Take the rest of the day to eat well. Eating is something we neglect when our emotions are strung for a loop, making us feel worse.”
“I will,” she conceded.
She watched as the centaur wandered away. Standing alone on the dry docks, she turned and looked at the water, wondering what her reflection might be. A pony, she thought. For a long while her anger tormented her, not just after coming to this world. Somewhere, deep inside, she kept her anger dormant. She had let it build up, let it fester. Just like her sadness, she had not thought about it for a long while. And when she would think about her anger, why she felt sad, or how pathetic she felt, she would push it off. She would push it back inside and tell herself she’d deal with it the next day. She kept pushing it off, every day.
One too many.
She stared at the slow current of the river, her reflection wobbling in the tiny ripples.
She wanted a good, long look at the unicorn.
She wanted the memory.